Bianca Notte
by Lluvia Di'Noche
Summary: They called him South for he knew nobody, and nobody knew him. His coffee was nothing special, but those eyes - they seemed to stare into the vastness of the universe. {spamano one-shot}


_**"Ho scritto una storia d'amore senza inizio e senza fine...per scriverla con te"**_

 _ **"Sorridi anche se sei triste, perché non c'é niente di più triste di non saper sorridere"**_

 _ **"Quando il buio della sera maschera il mio viso, solo allora potrei dirti certe cose"**_

* * *

Not far from Rome, along the light roads, far into the voices of busy Italians running to and from places with enthusiasm there lays an abandoned coffee shop. It sits in between two other buildings that now stand, running, but lost in a way. One of them is an art shop filled with fine paintings that once sold like hot cakes and now were battled for. The other is a restaurant where a happy voice would run through and meet every person that came in. This building sits there, vines crawling up the side in intricate swirls. With faded beige bricks and peeling paint, it catches a viewer's glance for a moment before turning back to previous activities. The charcoal black door is cracked and crumbling just like everything else about the shop itself. The trees gently sway and almost seem to embrace the ruins of the collapsing building while the wind gently blew kisses to the walls like a bitter farewell. The birds sang softly only giving the area welcoming aura that attracted any passerby.

The old shop once was a popular place. Families and couples, people in general, they would all come just to see the man behind it all. This small coffee shop that should not have ever been anything much to begin with captured the attention of many because of a certain man with hazel eyes who was a mystery to everyone. He made coffee just like anybody else, there was nothing special about his style of brewing. What captured people's attention were his contradicting attitude - and those fascinating hazel eyes.

He captivated many with the way he greeted each woman with a warm smile and a gentle nod to the men. What more, despite the fact that he could be harsher and blunter, his attitude was welcoming in the strangest of manners. He was a true Southern Italian with his tanned skin, welcoming arms, and callused hands from work in the fields. Yet, he was rash and did not hesitate to tell a man when something irked him. It was for this reason that he captivated all. Nobody quite understood him as he never desired to be understood.

There was simply something about looking into those hazel eyes as they asked for an order that fascinated the Italians. How could someone seem so welcoming, act rude towards men, yet still manage to leave everyone wanting to return for more? Perhaps it was the mystery that thrilled them all. The man hardly spoke, it made sense. Plus, nobody knew a thing about him, not even his name. He simply went by "South" to the people which was a strange idea at first, but nobody protested. It wasn't as if the hazel-eyed mystery would have poured everything to them in a single day. He was secluded and that never changed.

South remained this way, a bitter and sharp tongue, yet respect and love towards any woman that came his way. Beige walls enveloped him into a warm embrace and the constant smell of coffee gave him peace of mind. Every day he opened at eight and closed at six, the golden sun making those hazel eyes glimmer even more. The same went for the restaurant next to him as it belonged to his brother, North. Neither one of the two ever gave their name out nor did they truly befriend anyone enough to give a name. This was more of a strange thing for North than South. North was friendlier and held the Italian glow inside of him.

He was constant smiles, kisses, hugs, and affection versus South who never smiled unless he was being satire or he saw a lady. Yet, this is how the two lived. Constant veils over their faces to hide from the rest of the town. This did not stop the people, no, they came and they went, attempting to open up either one enough to at least get a name. Nothing.

In the end, North and South remained the strangest pair of brothers that anyone had ever seen. North could make the saddest person smile, and South—South saw into people's souls. It was strange the power that he held. Those eyes filled with an unknown color swirled and stared right through the strongest man and could find his weakness. They were filled with judgment, but fair judgment. He never hated a person without a valid reason. Still, everyone both feared and loved his eyes because South saw vulnerability, but he also carried honor.

Perhaps it had something to do with who he was as a person. South used to have the tendency to drink wine every Friday evening with his brother and while North smiled, South glanced at the ground sadly. Maybe he wasn't sad at all and it was a matter of how he looked when he was relaxed. After all, South was a man of few words. That was the way he was, he did not smile much, he did not make friends, and he was a mystery. Still, nobody ever left his coffee shop with an empty or burdened mind, he made sure of that.

Many people had expected him to marry soon. The women love him and he was still a young man of only nineteen. This was another thing that amazed people—he was a wise man despite being so young. For that, he was pitied. Still, it did not change the fact that he was attractive and that the people had loved him. It did not change the fact that every woman to stop by his coffee shop desired to kiss him and have those seeing hazel eyes gaze down at them with all of the love in the world and be the one to make the mysterious South, smile genuine smiles and open up. In a small area such as this one, someone was bound to make him fall in love. Nobody came in and nobody came out. That was, until the equally mysterious painter, Antonio, came and opened up shop in the vacant place next to _Bianca Notte_ , South's coffee shop.

Antonio was a new painter who was young as well. He was twenty-eight when he had moved into the area and everyone had been surprised. Tourists came and went, but nobody ever truly moved in. If anyone did, it certainly wasn't in this part. Yet, Antonio, a cheerful painter who had emerald eyes that saw the good in people, moved in. That was how the first things began to change. Women frolicked to him as well, entranced by the Spanish beauty.

The thing about Antonio was that he was just as strange as South. When he had first moved into the area, he only gave his first name and never signed a surname on his paintings. He always smiled, never frowning, everyone had picked up on that quickly, but everything that he created was sad. His paintings were in blues and violets, black embracing the gentle strokes and the music he played brought the boldest heart to a vulnerable state. At Mass, he greeted everyone with such a loving and gentle attitude that it grew hard to believe he could create such depressing and grey things. Yet, that was what he did and it was _all_ that he did. He simply worked, sold, lived, smiled, and every morning, would stop by _Bianca Notte_ just to see this curious South that everyone in the town remained curious about.

The first thing that Antonio had heard when he moved in was rumors about his mysterious neighbor. They weren't bad ones, just things that questioned why he was such a confusing person. Some people said that his mother had gotten pregnant and died after giving birth to Feliciano where the two stayed with their grandfather until he died when South was seventeen and North sixteen. Others said that the two had run away from home to this place, and some said that they were just two boys who didn't want to be known after they left the house. Regardless, Antonio remained amazed that two boys could hide their identities so well. The day that he first met South, he had expected some ugly, grumpy person, just because of the way that people had described him to him. He had not been expecting a fairly thin nineteen-year-old who looked like he had a little bit of a stomach poking from his shirt, with a well-proportioned face and those hazel eyes.

The minute his green eyes met South's piercing hazel ones, it was like he had been stripped of his clothes and left a vulnerable child before him. He didn't know what it was, the way he arched his brow, or how those lazily lidded eyes stared at him with a sort of demeaning attitude. Was it the way his lips curved up into a small smirk? No, it couldn't be. The strange part wasn't how vulnerable he felt around him, but the way that he was drawn to get to know him as if he had been an old woman offering him a cappuccino and a hug.

South's tongue poked out to lick the cannoli powder from the corner of mouth as he stood up and stretched a bit, a sort of bored look on his face before he gave a fleeting smile and then nodded, "Welcome. Are you here to order?" And as quick as the smile had been there, it was gone. Now, his eyebrow was arched again and he seemed to be looking at Antonio, observing him, all while taking bites of the cannoli that he held.

Trying to brush away the weird feeling of vulnerability, he shook his head and smiled brightly, "Uh no. I'm your new neighbor. I moved in next door to you. You know, the place that is now my studio and art shop?"

South smirked before sitting again, taking the last bite of his cannoli. He seemed almost amused by something and Antonio didn't know what. Licking the powder from his finger, he leaned on the counter, "Yeah, I've heard of you. For one, your accent is very clear, Mr..."

"Antonio"

"No surname?"

"Not unless I get a first name from you."

At this, South laughed lightly, his face filling with more amusement and he walked over, poking his new neighbor gently in the chest as he made his way across the room, "I like you, Antonio. Nobody has challenged me so in a while. Sadly, you're not getting a name from me."

At this, Antonio smiled, attempting to conceal his nervousness around the man. With a false image of confidence, he leaned back a little with his arms folded, "Then I'm afraid that you will get no surname from me, South."

To this, the owner gave a light scoff and pulled down a bottle from a shelf, "Do not flatter yourself. What makes you think that out of all of the people here, I want to talk to you?"

Antonio looked up a bit and now he truly did hold confidence. The people had not been joking when they had told him that South was bitter and blunt. It fascinated him and he found himself compelled to open up this mystery person despite the fact that nobody had been able to open him up before.

With a slight shrug, the painter watched South carefully, "Perhaps it's the fact that I am like you in a way."

South seemed to tense up and he held the bottle in his hands tighter, "Is that so? I didn't realize that a painter and a coffee shop owner were the same thing."

He had already grown used to the sarcasm. Laughing lightly, he sat down in one of the seats and looked up at South with an amused look on his face, "You know what I mean, South. While our professions are different and our attitudes, the reason that we do what we do is the same. Nobody in this town knows your name or a thing about who you really are-"

"And what of you? You don't get to know anyone either so do not-"

Antonio cleared his throat lightly, "That's what I was getting to. I don't either. Sure, I learn names, but in the end, I avoid bonding with people. I know you do the same. My only question is why?"

South scoffed and turned away, walking towards the counter with the bottle in his hands, lips pursed and eyes to the ground, "I don't make friends much is all. Who are you to judge me? I'm nothing like you."

Antonio frowned slightly and shrugged, standing up again, "Maybe we're nothing alike after all. But you are a lonely person, I know that much."

South glared at the man, watching as he made his way to the door and bit his lip as he glanced towards the portrait that hung on the wall and he sighed, shaking his head despite a small smile growing on his face.

"Romano."

Antonio turned for a moment, confused, "Cosa?"

The coffee shop owner shook his head and rolled his eyes, "Call me Romano. It's not my actual name, but I like it better. If you tell anyone else, I'll castrate you."

"Fernandez."

It was Romano's turn to look in confusion, "Fernandez? Is that your surname?"

Antonio nodded gently, not opening the door, "Fernandez-Carriedo. I'll see you around, Romano."

North who had been by the stairs, heard the entire conversation and saw it as well, stood with an opened mouth. Had that actually occurred? Had his brother given the random painter next door a name to call him by other than South?

Had some random painter conquered the impossible?

North did not mention that he had seen the painter and this had to due with the fact that he never saw his brother and the painter in a conversation such as that one again. In fact, he never saw the painter again unless he came in to buy breakfast. That was what left him confused. How could his brother give something important to someone that he would never speak to again?

Especially to the painter of all people! While North liked Antonio the painter from the couple of times he had spoken him, Antonio intimidated him in the strangest of ways. He was such a happy and smiling person, but when he looked at him for the first time, Antonio had told him that he smiled because he didn't like thinking about the negativity in life. How he had been right about that, Feliciano would never know. He had only seen Antonio a few times before that day.

A few days later, he stopped by Antonio's art shop and listened as the man played a song. It was still such a sad sounding song, but the lyrics had a hopeful ring to them, his paintings also began to go up in warmth. Everyone guessed that he was simply more comfortable in the town. North had first thought that it might have been a friendship with his brother, but he never saw the two together after that day.

After a couple of days, he let it go. That's when the new thing came in that made everyone stop dead in their tracks. Nobody was quite sure when it had occurred, it might have just been something that had slipped past them all. Yet, the fact of the matter was that South began to smile. Everyone had known him for years and nothing had ever made him smile the way that he smiled suddenly. Every ephemeral curve of the lips was brief and almost invisible. Yet, these became smiles that showed up towards everyone. North had been used to seeing these things only for himself when they were laughing at things at two in the morning. To find out that his brother was smiling towards more people was something that left him a bit shaken and surprised.

His first instinct was to assume that it was the painter who was as much of a mystery, but he never saw them around each other. In fact, the only times that he did see him, his brother was insulting him just like anyone else. Of course, the painter would wink every time, but he did that towards everyone.

If only North had noticed the pink tint in his brother's cheeks whenever it happened.

He wasn't the only one attempting to figure out what was going on. It was a frustration that many people in the town attempted to figure out. Some had assumed that it was a lady who had enchanted him and won his heart. Yet, South was still as flirtatious as kind as ever with women, never treating one more adored than another. Some had started to assume that perhaps it was a man that he had taken quite the fancy towards. Yet, there was no proof and the line went dead once again.

Not even North, his brother, the one who was to know everything about him, could figure out what exactly had caused his brother to feel so suddenly joyous. It was becoming the biggest problem that anyone had known. Normally love lives were nothing to find grand interest in. However, this was South, Italy's mystery, and everyone wanted to know what went on behind those hazel eyes that hid so much from the world.

Yet, those glittering eyes held their secret and nobody ever did figure out what exactly it was that South kept hidden behind them. Nor did anyone figure out what it was about the illustrious Antonio that drew them in. Everyone was drawn by the both of them, the way they glanced at everyone in such polar ways, yet left the same effect.

Not once did anyone ever question why Antonio's paintings began to turn hazel.

Time passed and soon the rumor became nothing more than an unsolved mystery that hardly lingered in the air for more than a few minutes in a suddenly made South happy was something that was obviously none of their business. People let it be. After all, everyone deserves happiness.

Despite the fact that South was happier, he did not change. Nor did Antonio the painter. Both still held power, one having the appearance that struck all while the other had the eyes that saw the smallest details. In fact, people began to wonder why the two did not converse besides maybe an occasional coffee that Antonio would pick up.

Soon Easter rolled around and people prepared for their celebrations of the holiday. North went around and made flower crowns for the ladies, flirting a little along the way. People made food and had their personal festivities. It so happened to be that North always held a grand party for as many people as would come. People would eat, drink, dance, play games, and many other things.

Although it was North that had the event set up, South always showed up as well. He claimed that it was mostly for the pleasure of his annoying brother, but people knew better. He had never missed the Pasqua party. So when the clock struck nine and he didn't show up, many others besides North were surprised by it. Many brushed it off, simply joking to North that he was with his secret lover that they had yet to figure out the identity of.

Should anyone have been paying attention, they would have noticed that half an hour prior, Antonio disappeared from the Pasqua festivities that North had set up.

Yet, nobody did pay attention. Instead, everyone continued on with what they were doing and they all enjoyed the night. North blew kisses, sang, danced, and made sure that everyone had a wonderful time just as before. North always sets up the parties even today.

Nobody felt anything different, which was something that would bring shame. Nobody noticed a new light. Nobody even stopped dancing once the first scream broke out.

By the time the second scream had broken out, a young girl came running. "Fire!" she had cried "there's a fire at South's shop!"

North was the first to run. When he got there, he covered his mouth and stared up in horror as the building that was his brother's pride and joy burned. Nobody knows what started the fire. Some say that it was a candle that had fallen, others say that somebody wanted to harm South, some even say that it was a couple of teens who had been messing with fire and started it. Still, nobody knows except for South and Antonio.

As much as North attempted to save whoever was in there. As much as water was thrown and people fought to bring the fire down, it was too late. By the time the fire died out, the walls were fallen, the building had been mostly eaten, and the two bodies inside lay together, burned and dead.

There was a cry in Italy that night more miserable than there had ever been.

North had his brother properly buried as well as Antonio who as far he knew, had no other family. The cries lasted six months. North wept and cried out for his brother, begging for the Lord to return him. He was miserable and weak. Yet, he never blamed anyone for what happened, nor hated whoever was accused of starting the fire. He had a heart much too loving for that.

Six months later, North left the town. With him, he took that mystery and that joy that nobody could ever replace. Nobody's quite sure where he went. According to Margherita Leone, he moved to Germany with someone he had met. Others say that he went to Venice. Some even say that he moved to England.

The fact remains that he longer lives in this town. Nobody ever figured out his real name, nor South's, nor Antonio's surname. The three remained the mystery of the town and forever lingering on the minds of those that had known them. North's sunshine smile, South's diamond sharp eyes, and Antonio's all-seeing eyes.

However, North came back one year. It was La Pasqua and he wanted to honor his brother after neglecting the area for many years. As he walked the roads that led to what had once been his restaurant and his brother's shop, a great pain overwhelmed him. Yet, he had not reached twenty meters of the once adored area when he heard the music.

Now, he first began to suspect that it was the people throwing a grand party just as he had once before. However, the music was different. It was in Spanish. Now, North may have been gone for a while, but he knew that it wasn't often in this area that Spanish music was played. He looked up to see who was playing the music and that was when he froze in his place.

As he looked up and ahead...he saw his brother. Well, a spirit would be more accurate. South was embracing Antonio as they swirled and moved together. There was a smile on his face as well; a smile that North never knew. Antonio leaned down, peppering kisses on South's face as he giggled before pressing one on the other's lips. South didn't push him away. Instead, he pulled him down more and when they broke away, he smiled even more. North had never seen his brother happier.

That's when the fire started.

South and Antonio didn't seem to see it. They simply continued with their dance and sang softly to the music. By the time the fire was noticeable, it was too late. South quickly moved to get out when a piece of wood fell and trapped him. That was the first scream. Antonio quickly ran to help him. The fire growing larger and more violent. Yet, in the time it took Antonio to help South, the fire grew much too large and North watched as their faces filled with horror and sorrow. They screamed, pleading for help. Ash hit them, causing them to wince. Eventually, they gave up. South limped a bit and clung to Antonio, tears falling down his face. Then North saw himself amongst the many people attempting to take the large fire out.

South leaned up and whispered something to Antonio. The two shared one more kiss before a final wall collapsed on the two of them. The fires died, and the spirits left. The last thing North saw was himself as he walked to find his brother's body only to fall to his knees on the ashes and scream in agony.

Everything faded as quick as it had appeared and North was left in the silence of the night. Tears trickled down his face for various reasons. He wept, tears beginning to quicken and he fell to his knees sobbing on the streets, cries and pleads for the clock to turn back. North cried out for he missed his brother and he finally knew what made him so happy after all these years. Finally feeling at peace, he left a single white rose on the steps of the burnt building.

Nobody knows what happened to North after that. He never returned. However, every year on La Pasqua, the entire floor of the burnt building is covered in white rose petals. Nobody knows who leaves them there. They only know that they always show up every year. The people have called it "Bianca Notte", after the coffee shop. And it is also said that every year on that night... if you wait until the exact moment that it started, you can see Antonio and South dancing together one last time.

Of course, it is only a rumor.


End file.
